


Little Debbie

by Yasminke



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-05-02
Updated: 2011-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-28 03:39:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/303319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yasminke/pseuds/Yasminke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AI take in two runaways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Totally Jossed five minutes after it was originally posted. Such is life.

Jason Baxter ran as fast as his ten-year old legs could carry him. He'd always done well in sports, but Debbie weighed more than a ball, and the people who had invaded his home were adults, not kids from his Saturday football league. Jason turned into an alleyway and squeezed behind two garbage dumpsters.

His fifteen-month old sister was awake, but remained quiet in his arms. Whenever his friends complained about their loud brothers and sisters, Jason kept his comments to himself. Debbie rarely made a ruckus and when she did, it was immediately obvious, at least to his parents, what the reason was. Once she was removed from wherever she was stuck, changed, and/or fed, Debbie would return to her usual calm, intense scrutiny of things and events around her. Their father laughed and claimed she was an old soul struggling in a baby's body, but then Debbie would blow a raspberry or grab the cat's tail and Jason's world would return to normal.

For now, her hazel eyes met his brown, silently questioning. Jason couldn't figure out why she wasn't crying. He knew **he** wanted to, but didn't dare. He cowered as he heard footsteps approaching, submerging himself and his sister deeper into the shadows. 

"Okay, that was a total bust. So, what do we do now?" a woman asked.

"I don’t know. The information was so specific, so terribly detailed," replied a man with an odd accent. Jason had heard one like that before, on one of his father's television shows about funny robots and a telephone booth. _Dr. Who_ , he recalled sadly. He wondered what his parents were doing now and how they would find them.

"I really am at a complete loss. The situation has me per —" Suddenly, the footsteps stopped. "Did you hear something?"

Jason panicked as Debbie began to wiggle in his arms. He hadn't had a chance to grab any diapers or food. His father had pushed them through the kitchen when the invasion happened, with very specific instructions: "Run!" And he knew they couldn't go home yet. Debbie reached up to grab his nose. Jason avoided her, but couldn't stop his tears as her hand brushed against his cheek.

"Are you hearing voices?" The woman laughed. "I thought that was my department."

"Very amusing," snapped 'Dr. Who'. "Probably just a cat."

"You haven't been feeding them, have you? You know we can’t afford to feed strays, even though we feed you."

"It's starting to rain. Let's go into the building, shall we?"

Jason heard even more footsteps approach. He bent down and kissed his sister, praying she'd stay quiet just a little longer. At least until the voices' owners left.

"Excuse us," a hoarse, deep voice growled. Jason started; he'd heard that same voice yelling instructions as he fled through his home to the outside. "We need your help."

"Great. That's what we do. Help people," the woman answered.

"My brother and his family are visiting from Omaha. My nephew took my niece out for a walk and we haven't seen them since. He's maybe ten years old, blond hair, blue eyes, about four foot, six inches, maybe taller."

Jason peeked out from between the dumpsters. Through the crack, he could see a man grab a woman's hand and squeeze it. He looked up and saw the woman mouth an "ow."

"I'm ever so sorry. We’ve seen no children tonight," 'Dr. Who' answered. "Or recently, for that matter. Not exactly a child-friendly environment." 

"True. We'll keep searching. Thanks, anyway," 'Hoarse Voice' responded. Jason heard the footsteps recede and turn a corner, followed by a slap against material.

"Why'd you do that?! That hurt!"

"They're not looking for family, Cordelia."

"Cordelia," Jason repeated to himself.

"Oh, and how would you know?" Cordelia mocked.

"If your nephew and niece were missing in a strange city," 'Dr. Who' asked, "wouldn't you carry a photograph to show people? And wouldn't you know how old they were?"

"Yeah, okay. But my vision was about a baby. Not a ten-year old."

"How do you propose a baby get around? Please, let's get in from the rain and have some tea. We don't have health coverage for pneumonia."

"Do we have any health coverage?"

 

***

 

"Here's your tea. Do we have milk?"

Cordelia handed Wesley the carton. "What are we going to do? Shouldn't we tell Angel?" she asked as she closed the refrigerator and sat down.

Wesley sighed and shook his head. "Perhaps you should find Gunn and let him know what has happened."

"But not Angel? He's roaming the streets, too. He might see them. He was good with those two kids, remember?"

"I don’t think he's in a frame of mind to think about tending to a baby whose parents have disappeared."

"Social services?"

"Not until we know why, and where they are."

"You called the police?"

"I left a message, yes," Wesley paused. "There it is again. Cats in the kitchen?"

"Or rats. You go check."

"You're afraid of rodents," he laughed.

"No, just a chauvinist. Go on!"

Wesley groaned and got up to go to the kitchen. He opened the door and turned on the lights, waiting impatiently for them to flicker on and the source of the noise to scurry away. When the lights did come on, all Wesley saw was an empty galley. "Preposterous waste of time," he complained and flipped the switch down.

"No?" Cordelia asked sweetly.

"No."

Jason crawled out from the wooden cabinet and pulled Debbie out. He straightened up and looked around. 

"This is the biggest kitchen I have ever seen, Debs," he whispered. "Bigger than the school cafeteria even! But that doesn’t mean they have milk. Just don't pee on me, 'cuz you know they don’t have diapers."

Jason glanced down and saw that Debbie was falling asleep. Mindful that she tossed and turned in her sleep and might fall off a counter or table, he put her on the floor and started to quietly search the kitchen for food.

Angel stormed across the foyer and glared at Cordelia and Wesley. "What are you two doing?" he grumbled, taking off his rain-soaked coat and brushing water out of his hair.

"Having tea. Want some?" Cordelia offered as Wesley investigated the dregs of his cup.

"No."

"Bad night?"

"Extremely."

"Ohhh-kay. Wesley heard some rats." Wesley's head snapped up, surprised at the mention of his name.

"It’s an old building; there's bound to be a few rats. Look, I'm going to my room. Any visions, call me."

"Anything you say!" Cordelia agreed, too quickly in Wesley's opinion. Angel looked at her quizzically before he left.

"I thought we agreed to keep him out of this," Wesley whispered.

"What? I didn't say, 'Oh, I already had a vision about a baby, but it's missing and we didn't tell you.' Did I?"

"No. Look, this is fruitless. I can't think properly. I'm going to get some sleep."

"Me, too. We'll figure it out in the morning, right? It's just a baby."

"Most likely," Wesley answered, patting her shoulder. "Try not to worry much. Good night, Cordelia."

"Night."

After an unsuccessful search for food, Jason found a secure corner in the kitchen and crammed himself and his sister in there, eventually falling into a fitful sleep. When he awoke, 'Dr. Who' and Cordelia were silent. Jason ventured out, and although it was clearly morning, no one was around. Looking to see Debbie staring at him while chewing on two of her fingers, he picked her up, shushed her unnecessarily and crept across the area. He spied a refrigerator and excitedly opened it to find a carton of milk, a pink box with leftover donuts, and some very odd packets of a dark liquid. He beamed at his discovery, took two donuts and surveyed his surroundings as he hastily ate the first one. Deciding to try his luck in the rooms at the top of the stairs, he grabbed a mug from a nearby counter, shoved the second donut into the mug, held the carton of milk in his left hand, and straddled his sister on his right hip. Precariously balancing the load, he stole up the stairs and peered at the bottom of the doors for a darkened room, while Debbie tugged painfully on his ear. 

Opening the second door he came to, Jason smiled at Debbie and sat her on the floor. He returned to the doorway, quickly scanned the hall, then lightly closed the door. The latch clicked, just as another door across the way opened and someone stepped out of that room. 

Jason heard the approaching footfalls and grabbed Debbie. He stuffed her into an old-fashioned wardrobe, then returned for the milk and cup. He quietly climbed in and pulled the door closed. The keyhole let in just enough light that he could see the outline of his sister, but not much more. Gently, he broke off a piece of donut and put it in her hand, silently asking his mother for forgiveness in case it wasn't suitable food for a baby. Debbie inspected the offering in the darkness, then ate it hungrily, holding up her hand for more. 

 As he broke off another piece of donut and gave it to her, the wardrobe door burst open. Debbie looked up and flexed her grubby, donut-encrusted fingers at the tall stranger.

"Mo num."

"CORDELIA!"  


	2. Chapter 2

"Okay, you didn’t tell me about the vision, because…?" Angel whispered angrily as he paced the floor in front of the wardrobe.

"Again, we thought we could handle it ourselves and didn't want to bother you," Wesley returned in a similar, hushed tone. He remained against the room's door, watching Cordelia struggle with the package of Pampers he'd bought at a convenience store. "We didn't know she would show up here. That part wasn't included in the vision."

"Hey! How come I get diaper patrol?"

Wesley smirked before he answered her. "You're a chauvinist."

"I can do it," Jason said in a small voice. He took a diaper from Cordelia, opened the package of Chubb baby wipes and proceeded to change his sister. He passed the used diaper to Cordelia, which she took out of the room with a look of disgust. Returning to the bed where the man who'd pulled them out of the closet had brusquely ordered him to sit, Jason sat Debbie on his lap and handed her the Tommy Tippee cup the man with glasses had brought. Debbie slurped noisily from the cup and leaned back to watch her brother watch the adults.

Angel rubbed his forehead while he spoke. "Perhaps one of you would care to inform me of what is going on?"

"As we explained when we proffered our humblest apologies, we don't know. When we got there," Wesley looked over at the two children, "the house was an absolute shambles and no one was about."

"Then we came back here," Cordelia added. "These three guys came up and asked about their nephew. But Wesley figured out that they weren't family."

"I don’t have any uncles here," Jason interrupted. All heads turned toward the pair.

"Jason, you said?" Angel asked. Jason nodded. "Where is your family?" 

"I don't know," he answered as tears began to fall. "My Mom gave me Debbie and Dad told me to run. So, I did and now I don't know."

Cordelia knelt down in front of the children. "It's okay. We'll find them. That's what we do." She dodged Debbie's free hand as it made a move for her hair.

"'Help people.' I heard you. And then he," Jason pointed at Wesley, "squeezed your hand until it hurt."

Cordelia stood up and grinned mockingly at Wesley. "Yeah. Wesley picks on me a lot."

Jason thought back to the explanation his mother had given when his visiting cousin got into trouble for teasing their neighbor. "Maybe 'Dr. Who', I mean Wesley, likes you, and doesn't mean to be mean," he reasoned.

"I most certainly do not," Wesley snorted. "Dr. Who? Huh."

"Dasen, mik," Debbie giggled and hurled the half-empty cup between the two men.

Angel bent down, picked up the cup and put it on the bedside table. "Could we get back to the more important issues at hand, children? We need to find some place for the baby to sleep. Is there a cot downstairs, Cordelia?"

"Crib," Jason interpreted quietly. "My Mom calls it a cot, too."

"I'll go check."

"Where's your mother from, Jason?" Wesley questioned, as Cordelia left the room.

"Manchester, England. That's how I could tell those men weren't my uncles, even though I couldn't see them. My uncles don't talk like that. Or like you." 

"I should venture to say not. Not if they're from Manchester," Wesley said, grinning at the idea. "And your father?"

"Delaware. But he doesn't have any other family any more. They're all dead."

Angel looked sullenly at Wesley, then Jason. "How'd they die?"

"Um, well. My aunt died in a car crash. Grandpa Graham had a heart attack last year. And Granny died when I was little. Will that help find my Mom and Dad?"

"Probably not," Angel admitted. "But at least now we know a little bit more about you. That and you're hungry and tired."

"Yeah. And scared. Real scared."

"We already knew that, and you've every right to be," Angel said. "Wesley's a size or two off on his judgment about things for your sister. But maybe he knows what to get you?"

"Why don't you?"

"Benefits of being the boss. And I'm allergic to sunshine."

"Oh," Jason answered, contemplating the information. "I saw a movie about someone like that once."

Angel grinned. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. _Dracula_. Cool movie. Ugly dude."

"That he is," Angel mumbled. "I'll see what's keeping Cordelia. Wesley'll go get you something to eat. Right, Wesley?"

Wesley snapped out of his reverie. "Pardon? Oh, yes. Food. Vindaloo's out, I suppose."

Jason shook his head. "Waaayyy too hot, but I like my Mom's mulligatawny soup."

Wesley clucked. "Not readily available, I'm afraid." He narrowed his eyes at Jason. "McDonalds," they said together.

"I found a rat," Cordelia yelled from the bottom of the stairs. "So, ah…Angel, I need you downstairs. NOW!"

 

***

 

After making sure Wesley could handle the situation, primarily the now restless baby, Angel descended the stairs. Cordelia stood at the end of the balustrade, next to three tall, bulky men whose heads seem to rest squarely on their shoulders, without the aid of necks.

"Uh," she began, "these are the guys looking for their nephew and niece. The ones I told you about last night. When you're done talking to them, can you help me catch the rat?"

"Yes. Don't you have inventory in the kitchen to take care of?"

"I'm on it," Cordelia said, leaving the men alone.

"You're looking for little kids?" Angel leaned against the reception desk and crossed his arms over his chest.

"They were seen running this way last night. The boy ran away from home," the man in the middle said. Angel noticed that his hair was dyed the dark bluish-black normally found in comic books. He was surprised Cordelia hadn’t mentioned it, or their lack of necks.

"Well, there aren't any here. I don't allow children on the premises. How old did you say they were?"

"I didn’t, but he's eleven and she's two."

"Both ran away? Why?"

"Probably confused or wanted to go home. They're new in the area. From Omaha."

"Been there. I can understand why they'd want to go back. Do you have a picture?"

"Not on me, no."

"A phone number in case we see them?"

"Got pen and paper?"

"Sure," Angel leaned over the counter and brought out a pad of paper and a pen.

"I'm surprised anyone's redoing this place," one of the silent men said. "I heard it was haunted. You know, demons, ghosts and shit like that."

"You believe that?" Angel queried.

The man snorted, "Yeah, right. Along with vampires and werewolves. You're going to have a hard time getting people to come here, that's all. I lived in this neighborhood a long time ago."

"You don't say," Angel remarked as he took the paper from the first man's hand. "You gave my secretary the description last night, right?" The man nodded as he looked around the foyer. "I'll call you if I see any children. You might want to inform the police as well," Angel suggested, folding the paper. "Talk to a Detective Lockley. Tell her Angel told you to call."

"Sure thing. Lockley. Thanks. We better get back to our search."

"Yep. Good luck," Angel agreed, watching as the men left the building. "Cordelia!"

She peered out of the kitchen, "Yeah?"

"Phone number," he said, putting the piece of paper next to her computer. "Probably false."

"Right. How are they?" Cordelia sat by the computer. 

"Wesley offered to go to McDonalds. I'll go tell him he can leave. See what you can find on Baxter at that address you went to. Without telling me you were going."

"We said sorry. Sheesh."

 

***

 

The petite blonde huddled and shivered in the damp, putrid darkness. "Do you think they're all right, Jake? Jason's only ten. And Debbie, …" She began to sob uncontrollably.

"Natalie, they're fine. Jason's very resourceful. He'll handle things. And Debbie's as good as gold. They're fine, honey. Just fine."

Jake held his wife and looked up at the shafts of sunlight poking through the small holes in the manhole cover. "Please let them be all right," he prayed.

"I just wish I knew what everyone is prattling on about, Jake. Slayers, vampires and Watchers. Insane rot like that. Poor Jason."


	3. Chapter 3

Debbie was tolerating the crib Angel had set up for her, quietly examining an old toy Cordelia had found and scrubbed. And scrubbed, and scrubbed, she claimed. Jason was on the bed, stuffing food into his mouth at an astonishing rate; he barely managed to chew at all before he swallowed and stuffed more in. A human chipmunk hybrid. 

Or so it seemed to the ex-Watcher as he sat in an armchair, observing it all from across the room. 

"Is that all right?" Wesley asked, gesturing to the meal.

"Oh, yeah." Jason grinned. "This is so cool. Mom doesn't let me have large, ever."

"She doesn't? She'll have me drawn and quartered."

"Pwowy," the boy mumbled.

"Pardon?"

Jason swallowed the fries. "I said 'probably'. She has three big brothers and Dad says they're totally petrified of her. He says they sent her to America so they'd live to have children. Mom doesn’t take guff from anybody."

Wesley snickered. "Thanks for the warning."

Jason looked at his sister as she gleefully threw the toy out of the crib and watched it bounce across the floor. "We had to wait a long time for Debs," he noted quietly, oblivious to the puzzled look on the older man's face. "But she's okay. Real quiet for a baby."

"I noticed." Wesley got up to retrieve the toy from under the wardrobe.

"And strong, too." 

"Strong?" Wesley repeated, lost in the task of cleaning the dust from the toy. He crossed the room and held the toy out to Debbie.

"Wow, yeah. Once she dragged the cat across the entire living room!" Jason added with childish pride, taking a huge bite out of his Big Mac.

"Hmm," Wesley murmured absent-mindedly while he watched Debbie stare at him. She took the toy from his hand and let it drop to the floor. Confounded, Wesley shrugged and turned to face Jason. Behind him, he heard Debbie flounce down on the mattress.

Jason swallowed his food this time. "By the tail. She was nine months old."

Suddenly, Wesley realized what the boy had said. "I see. Poor cat. Nine months old. That's something, eh Jason?"

"It was funny, but the cat didn't like it," he admitted, finishing off his fries. "Debbie likes Angel."

Wesley quirked an eyebrow. "And you don't?"

Jason shrugged as he drank his Coke. "He's weird."

"Weird? How so?"

"Something's not —" Jason stopped and balled up the wrappers from his meal. He shot the papers into the wastebasket. "Mom says I have an overactive imagination. Says I spend too much time locked up alone." 

Wesley furrowed his brow. "Really? Why are you locked up and alone?"

"Oh." Jason slid off the bed and went to cover his drowsy sister with a small blanket. "I just go into my room by myself and read. Mom hates it when I do that. Wants me outside playing or downstairs with them."

"Aha, I see. And your father?"

"He says it's okay, so long as they know what I'm reading. I was reading _Harry Potter_ again." He turned and looked across the room. "Wesley?"

"Yes?"

"You'll find them?"

"We're trying. Why don’t you rest, too? Especially since you’re the only one who seems to know what to do for your sister. We'll undoubtedly need your assistance later."

"Yeah, you guys suck at babysitting."

"I'm afraid that's so," Wesley agreed as he went to the door. "By the way, Jason. What was your mother's name before she married your father?"

"Masterton. Natalie Masterton. Well, it still is Natalie, huh?"

"Yes. I'll be downstairs if you need something."

Wesley watched Jason lie down, then quietly closed the door behind him. He slowly walked down the stairs and wondered what they had gotten embroiled in.

"Anything?" Angel asked.

"Normal. Wish I'd had parents like his," he mused. "He did mention that Debbie is unusually quiet —"

"Noticed," Angel agreed.

Wesley nodded and continued, "and he said 'strong' as in dragged-the-cat-across-the-room-before-she-could-walk strong."

"Tiger by the tail," Cordelia chimed in from behind her computer. "I can picture her doing that, though I'm not sure which is the tiger."

"Did he say anything else, Wesley?"

"His mother's maiden name was 'Masterton'."

"Willow would be so proud," Cordelia beamed as she watched information print out. "Maybe I could call her and gloat?"

"What reason could you possibly have to gloat?"

"First, Wesley, I found the family in Delaware. Their grandparents emigrated from England. The aunt who died? She was working for a publishing firm based in London, researching some historical stuff in Europe, when she was in a car accident and died. Here," she handed them the obituary, "you can read it yourself."

"Budapest. Doesn't tell us why," Angel said as he passed the page on to Wesley.

"Fine, be that way. Here's another one, then. I'd already found the mother's maiden name. So, I looked up the family in newspapers in Manchester."

"They're in the newspapers? These people are well-known?" Angel asked.

"Not. Just normal birth, marriage and death notices. But they're there. The kids' grandmother, Imogene, died two years ago. Their uncles are," Cordelia paused and looked at Wesley, "and here I gotta say that you British have weird names: Bernard, Neville, and Clive."

"What's wrong with those?" Wesley demanded. "Perfectly normal, Anglo-Saxon names. Better than Willow, Buffy… oh, sorry, Angel."

Angel chuckled and shook his head. "What else? That gives us nothing, Cordelia."

"That's it, so far. Nothing. They're just normal people."

"Who've apparently disappeared from the face of the earth," Kate announced.

 

***

 

Kate looked at Wesley. "That was you who called?" He nodded. "I take it you haven't found them either?" They all shook their heads.

"Did a gravelly-voiced guy call about the kids?" Cordelia asked.

"No, why? Was he supposed to?"

"No, but now I owe Wesley dinner. How's 'Big Boy' sound?"

"He was here," Angel informed Kate, "asking about two children: a boy eleven —"

"Ten," Cordelia interrupted.

Angel glared at her. "He said eleven."

"The night before he told us 'maybe ten', end quote," Wesley added.

"And a baby who's two," Angel finished.

"Well, the boy is ten but the baby's just over one," Kate said as she handed them a photograph. "This is the whole family, dated three months ago. If you find them or find out why someone's after them, give me a call."

"Will try," Cordelia assured her.

"That was not a request. I expect to hear something from you," Kate said as she left.

Wesley turned to Angel. "Demons, perhaps?"

"The men? No. Human. I could smell their blood."

"And after-shave," Cordelia added. "Cheap stuff. And did you see that guy's hair? Because I just know you noticed they had no necks." 

Angel tried to ignore her. "Wesley, have you heard either name before?"

"Masterton? Baxter? Yes, but hardly in a vision-worthy context. They're not uncommon surnames."

From the top of the stairs came the muffled sounds of a crying baby. The three turned their heads toward the sound, then looked at each other.

"Shall we draw lots?"

 

***

 

They were chasing her. Men with scarlet satin-lined capes and blood red eyes. Running after her and Jake, yelling for Jason and Debbie. She and Jake were running straight for the open arms of her mother.

"Nat. Nat, wake up," Jake whispered in her ear, brushing the chin-length, honey blond hair away from her face. He tried to shift his weight, but the circulation in his legs had cut out about an hour after he'd pulled her onto his lap.

"They were chasing me, Jacob. They wanted the kids, but we couldn't find them. They had such red eyes, the color of blood—"

"Christopher Lee," Jake informed her.

"Eh?"

"He was Dracula in the Hammer movies. Always had red eyes. You remembered what those men said three weeks ago and merged it with B-movies about vampires."

"We were running to my mother."

"Well, one of the goons was British, and my family's gone. Maybe your family has the answers?"

Natalie nodded. "We should get to a phone."

Jake kissed her forehead. "In a bit, hon. I can't move my legs right now. It'll be dark soon. Then we can get out of the sewers."

 

***

 

Having finished painting with the banana-flavored baby cereal Cordelia had prepared, Debbie stood on Angel's lap and wobbled and danced. He held her by the waist and dodged her grabbing hands. Persistent beyond measure, Debbie finally seized a handful of his hair and yanked.

"Ouch! Let go!" Angel pried her hand open, turned her around and tried to get her to bend at the waist. "Sit down, you hellion." Sensing even more potential fun in the new game, Debbie danced, marched and bounced even harder. "Careful, you! You're going to damage something."

"This makes for a Kodak moment," Cordelia whispered as she entered the room, glancing over at the sleeping boy. "That's some lap dance you're getting."

Angel growled softly. "Where's Wesley? And isn't it your turn yet?"

"Talking to Gunn, since it's broad daylight. And you still have almost two hours until dusk. Price you pay."

"Find anything more?"

"Just more normal stuff. The parents met at college and got married after they graduated. He's a city planner and she's—"

Unexpectedly, Debbie flounced down on Angel's lap and slammed back against his chest with a thud. "Oomph!"

"Good thing you don't breathe, huh?"

"Just keep your hair out of her reach. Jason wasn't kidding when he said she's strong. What else?"

Cordelia tried to free her fingers from Debbie's grasp as they headed toward her nearly toothless mouth. "No kidding, wow. Jacob's mother's maiden name was Travers. And I called that number the guy gave you. Give me my fingers back."

"The number?"

"Some British guy answered," she answered, locked in a battle of wills and fingers.

"Council?"

"I'm thinking: probably. Ouch! She bit me!"

Angel laughed. "Maybe she's a vampire?" 

"No, but you are, right?" Jason said from the bed. 


	4. Chapter 4

"What did he say?" Jake asked, keeping an ever-watchful eye on the neighborhood.

Natalie stepped away from the phone. "He said some words I have never heard my father use, then gave me a hotel address. He's booking us a suite under my mother's name and he and Bernard are coming over to meet us."

"What the fuck is going on, Nat?!"

"Jake!" she whispered sternly. "He said he couldn't go into on the phone, but that he would explain when he saw us, and that he was sorry."

"Sorry?! Sorry?! My children are missing, maybe dead, and your father's sorry?!"

"Jacob!"

"Oh, God. I didn't mean it, Nat." He pulled her into an embrace. "Give me the hotel address. I've a few bucks left in my wallet. We don't smell that rank, we can get a taxi."

  


***

  


"What did you say?" Angel asked, putting a wiggling Debbie onto the floor.

Jason sat up in the bed and swung his legs over the side. "I asked if you were a vampire."

"What makes you think that?" 

Wesley opened the door, "Good afternoon. Sleep well, Jason? She's heading for the electrical outlet, Cordelia."

Cordelia ran across the floor and scooped Debbie up, handing her to Wesley. "What did Gunn say?"

"He'll keep an eye out. One of the kids thinks she saw a couple hiding in a sewer about two miles from here but that was earlier this morning." Wesley tried to hand Debbie back to Angel. "You still have an hour, and then it's Cordelia's turn. That, I have to see."

Jason climbed off the bed and took Debbie. "You're all ignoring my question. It’s rude, even if I'm just a kid." He sat Debbie on the ground and plopped down next to her. "I asked if Angel was a vampire. But, if you're embarrassed, I guess it's okay. Mom says you don't have to answer questions that embarrass you."

"We'll let you handle this one, Watcher man," Cordelia teased.

Wesley glared at her. "Do you believe in vampires, Jason?"

"Sure. Grandpa Reggie says there are a lot of things in the world that people refuse to believe in. Doesn't make them less real. Besides, I heard my Mom and Dad talking about vampire hunters."

Angel and Wesley exchanged surprised looks. "When?"

"Three weeks ago. I had a test that day, but I aced it. Mom and Dad were upset and arguing about some men who visited Dad in his office. He's on the twenty-seventh floor. Glass all around. Really cool, but so high makes Mom sick."

"What else did you hear, Jason?" Angel asked.

"Answer my question and I'll answer yours."

Angel looked at Cordelia for help, then turned back to Jason. "Yes. Satisfied?"

Jason shrugged. "Sort-of."

Cordelia sat on the bed. "How'd you figure it out?"

"Aw, I read a lot. I have a book called _Vampires Don't Drink Lemonade_ and I saw the blood in the refrigerator. And what you and he said."

Angel raised an eyebrow. "Which was?" 

"You said you smelled their blood. Only vampires and werewolves do that. Then Cordelia said you had to stay here until dusk, and you don’t breathe. Werewolves breathe. So, that leaves vampire."

"Impressive," Wesley mumbled. 

"Do your eyes go red?"

"Yellow."

"Cool. Red is lame. So, do you bite them? And do they eat bugs like that crazy guy?"

"We'll let you handle that one too, Watcher man," Angel said.

 

***

  


Jake stood at the window and looked outside. They had arrived at the hotel and found a suite reserved for Imogene Sinclair. Natalie, in her best panicked tourist imitation, explained to the clerk that they had run into rental car trouble and shortly after that her purse had been stolen, so she had no identification. The receptionist was very understanding and offered to assist in anyway she could. In the meantime, the other party, she informed them, had requested two adjoining suites, and would arrive the following morning from London.

Jake had been first in the shower, allowing Natalie a chance to confirm their arrival at the hotel with one of her brothers. Once Jake gave Natalie the impression he had things under control, she went into the bathroom for a long, hot soak.

But he didn't have things under control. None of this was supposed to happen to him. Or to his family. That had been his father's promise. They had left England and the obligatory family business so that Graham and Judith Baxter's children could grow up normal and raise normal children. And so it had been, until three weeks ago.

Or maybe even earlier. Maybe things had gone wrong when an old friend of his uncle's called his father and asked about sending his daughter to America for college. Of course, it was reasonable. Of course, it was safe. Delaware would be a good hiding place. And so, intrigued, Jake transferred to the University of Delaware and met Natalie.

But Natalie seemed to have no clue about her father's previous occupation. All she knew was that her father was an accountant. Jake knew more about Natalie's father than she did. And so, thinking that was safest for her, he kept it that way. And forgot all the family stories.

Or so he believed, until three weeks ago. Three men, one of them pompously British, came into his office asking about Jason and Debbie. Family obligations, they said. A chance to make the world safer for everyone. Only a few were chosen. To have two children from one family was unheard of. Jason would leave as soon as possible and be educated in the best public school England could offer, and later in Oxford. Debbie would join him when she was old enough. It was their calling, their birthright.

But he did not want that for his children. And neither did Natalie. They discussed the matter — rather, they argued about the insanity of it all — and decided: no. The men, however, had had other ideas. And so, on Monday night, while the family was eating dinner, the men had decided to force the issue.

"Jake?"

He turned from the window and saw the firm resolution in her hazel eyes, "Yes?"

"I want my children."

"Me too, Nat."

  


***

  


Jason stood next to the stove scrutinizing the stockpot of boiling water and pasta. "You're supposed to throw it on the wall."

"No way!"

"Yeah," Jason nodded vigorously. "If it sticks, it's done. So, like, how old is he?"

Cordelia tried to pull a strand of spaghetti out of the pot with a fork. "Older than America."

"Wow."

"Yeah." A strand of spaghetti landed on the wall above the stove, and clung. "Hey! It stuck."

"Told ya. Don't you cook? Wesley says you have a ghost for a roommate 'cuz no one else'll live with you."

"Oh, did he?" Cordelia took the pot and poured the contents into the colander. "Careful of the steam," she warned.

"Yeah, okay. So, what's his name? Can I have lots of cheese?"

"Sure. Dennis."

"Cool." He watched as she ladled sauce onto the pasta. "Is he like Casper or Stinky and Fatso?"

"Casper," she laughed, putting the bowl of spaghetti on the table. "Extra cheese. Should I give some to Debbie if she wakes up?"

"You're kidding, right? She'll puke up spaghetti sauce."

Cordelia turned to make a portion for herself. "So? It's Wesley's turn to watch her tonight."

Jason climbed onto a stool and started to eat. "Nah, she mostly sleeps through the night. This isn't too bad. You know if you want her to barf, give her prunes. She hurls every time!"

"Lovely image," Cordelia said as she joined him. Suddenly, she giggled. "Let's do that next time Angel watches you guys. I'll get some at the store."

"That'll be really funny."

"What'll be funny?" Wesley asked as he strolled into the kitchen.

"Ah," Cordelia started with a wink to Jason. "Watching _Dead and Loving it_ with Angel."

"And that is?"

"Mel Brooks' take on _Dracula_. There's spaghetti. Jason and I made it."

"Thanks. And I should give that video a miss if I were you."

Cordelia leaned over. "Maybe he's right, Jason," she whispered. "Angel doesn't have a sense of humor about those things."

Angel entered the kitchen and inspected Jason's dinner. "What things?"

Jason glanced between the adults and realized they had been caught in a conspiracy. He looked up at Angel. "Do you sleep in a coffin?"

"No," Angel answered with a snort. "Do you?"

"Nah, 'cuz it would smell. Like spaghetti cheese."

"Angel," Wesley piped in, "Gunn called. He wants you to meet him."

"Right."

"Who's Gunn?"

"Has Kate called?"

"No."

"Who's Kate?"

Angel grabbed Jason by the shoulders and leaned next to his ear. "You let Cordelia cook for you?"

"Hey!"

"Trust me on this one," Angel whispered loud enough so everyone could hear, "You have to watch her. She puts weird things in your food."

"Like the witches in _Macbeth_? They make a nasty soup."

" _Harry Potter_ and _Macbeth_? Interesting," Wesley laughed but moved out of harm's way. "Can't you just imagine Cordelia as one of the witches around the cauldron?"

"Well, the pot we made the spaghetti in is like a cauldron. And she had a big wooden spoon!"

"Hey!"

Angel laughed. "I'm going to go talk to Gunn and see what's going on."

"Chicken," Cordelia teased.

"No, had enough. This joviality will be my undoing."

"What's 'joviality'?"

"Fun," answered Wesley.

"Angel doesn't understand 'fun'," Cordelia whispered.

"I heard that!"

  


***

  


"When did she see them?"

"Yesterday morning, down there," Gunn pointed as he leaned against the warehouse wall. "But they weren't there when we came back."

Angel lifted the cover and peered into the manhole. "Did anyone get a good look? Good enough to recognize them again?"

"Just her. How old did you say the kids were?"

"Ten and one," Angel said, replacing the cover and rising from the blacktop. "We're still not sure how they got away, or how he ran three miles from his house and into our kitchen."

"Oh, the kitchen part is easy," Gunn looked at Angel and chuckled. "Anyway, I've got someone watching the house. Still two men there. Did you ever figure out who they were?"

"The family?" Angel shook his head. "The people chasing them? Watcher's Council."

"The ones who run the Slayer business? They want the boy or the girl?"

"We think they're after the baby. Tomorrow make a delivery and see what happens." Angel handed Gunn the family portrait. "Their name is Baxter. The father's name is Jacob."

"Right. And we'll keep an eye out for the parents. They won't go too far."

"Thanks."

Gunn returned the photo and chuckled again, "It's weird."

"What?"

"You three with little kids."


	5. Chapter 5

Jake looked outside the window again. The small teenager was there. He'd bumped into him when he went out to buy new clothes first thing in the morning. Jake panicked, thinking his wallet had been taken, but it was still in his back pocket.

And now the boy with the bright orange t-shirt and jeans two sizes too big was at the bus stop below his window.

Someone knocked resolutely on the door, startling Jake out of his study.

"Natalie?" called a voice from the hallway. "Come on nitwit, open the door. It's me and Dad."

Jake nodded and Natalie opened the door, rushing into the arms of her eldest brother. Reginald Masterton entered the room and hugged Jake firmly. Natalie turned to be comforted by her father.

"Have you heard anything?" Bernard asked, closing the door behind him.

"No," Jake answered. "Not even on the news. Nothing at all."

"Good," Reginald responded, rubbing Natalie's back.

"Good?!" Natalie pushed away from her father, wiped her eyes and sat on the bed.

"Yes, that means the police aren’t involved."

"Father," she stood and started to pace, "I want to know exactly what is going on. Jake knows something, but he won’t say because he thinks I can't cope."

"Nat —"

"Shut up, Jacob. I spent two days in filthy sewers, wondering when I was going to hear about my children lying dead in the gutter. Well, they didn’t make the news, so someone has them. I'm no longer scared. I'm bloody well hacked off. Father, what's this about Watchers and Slayers?"

"It's an ancient organization, Natalie. I belonged, but resigned shortly after Bernard was born. Jake's father and mother were also in it, but quit before I did. His Uncle is still involved."

"Is it like the CIA or MI-5?"

"Worse, Nat," Bernard added. "It’s one of those jobs you stay in forever. You, your kids, your grandkids."

"But you quit, Father! That's what you said!" She spun around to face her brother. "And how the hell do you know so much?"

"Not important right now, but they've been keeping tabs. On you and Jake, on all of us. Nat, these people are —"

"But they only want my kids? Or did you forget to tell me you've had visits too, Bernard?"

"No, not just us," Jake added. "Angela worked for them, but Dad didn't approve. She was a field researcher. Checking out vampiric activity in Budapest, when the accident occurred."

Natalie backed up to the chair in the corner and collapsed. "What the fuck?! Vampires?! You're all sodding potty! Vampires don’t exist! Jake, I can’t believe you’re feeding me this bullshit."

"They do exist," Bernard explained. "There's a lot of vampires here in California. Jake's uncle told us when we saw him."

Jake nodded knowingly. "The Hellmouth is north of here, I hear."

"What the fucking hell is that?"

"Natalie Marie."

"Don't you dare 'Natalie Marie' me, Father. You've kept something from me that has endangered my children. I swear to God, if anything has happened to them, none of you will ever be forgiven and you will never, ever, see them or me again. That includes you, Jacob." Jake opened the curtain again and sighed.

"Natalie, nothing's has happened to them. We'd know."

"You better pray that's so, Bernard. What the bloody hell are you gawking at, Jacob?"

"That boy. He's been there for more than two hours. Now there's some blonde woman sitting next to him."

 

***

 

"Good morning, Wesley. Rested?" Angel hid his laughter. He'd already heard reports from Cordelia about Wesley's difficult time with the baby.

"No, not at all. It took forever to get Debbie to sleep. Jason tried to help, but he was absolutely shattered and fell asleep around midnight." Angel poured himself and Wesley each a cup of coffee. "Angel, there is something not quite right about all this. I'm not sure what, however. Where's Cordelia?"

"Went to check on a lead about the parents. Wait," Angel turned to him, "you're sure the window's secure?"

"Yes. And she can’t get out of the cot. She's already tried; that's what started her all-night tantrum." Wesley took the cup and gazed wearily into it. "Reviewing the information, I don't completely understand why the Council is after Debbie."

"You don't think she's Slayer material?"

"Indeed, she well might be. She's certainly agile enough, especially for a toddler. And she's bloody obstinate." Wesley wandered around the reception area. "But she's still so young."

Angel watched Wesley pace as he drank the coffee. "You're the expert."

"Hardly," he snorted.

"Facts, then. We've got a little girl who is incredibly strong for a toddler. You tested her, and Cordelia and I both were subjected to demonstrations. She's faster than a cockroach, to quote Jason. We all saw her bolt for the stairs yesterday, the minute the door opened. She's extremely attentive to detail. She's like a hawk when she watches us."

"Very predatory. Especially around you," Wesley grinned. "She's quite keen on you, Angel."

"Yes, I've noticed and take little comfort from it. So, what doesn't fit?"

"Why didn’t the mother take her? Why send Jason out? A ten-year old with a baby?" Wesley stopped and looked at a stenographer's notebook next to the computer. He picked it up and stared. "When did you find this out?"

"Find what out?"

"That Jason and Debbie are Council family?"

"What?"

"Travers. Their grandmother was Judith Travers. Quentin Travers' sister. She and her husband resigned from the Council and disappeared. But I never knew his name." Wesley threw the notebook down again and rubbed the back of his neck. "You sent Cordelia to check on them?"

"Yes, the description matched the photograph Kate left. Gunn's with her. I told them to bring the parents back."

"I don't like this, Angel. I suggest we get the children out of here."

"Please tell me," desperation was etched across Angel's face, "you don't mean wake her up?!"

 

***

 

"What are they doing now?"

"Talking. The kid got up and some other guy is there. She's done talking on her cell phone."

"Let me know if she moves."

"What now, Dad?" Bernard watched his sister, who joined her husband at the window.

"She's a hooker, Jacob. Get her number, you'll need one," Natalie snarked.

Bernard chuckled, "Natalie. Give it a rest."

"Shit! She's coming into the hotel."

"Right, we'll hear her out. If she's Council—"

"Oh, get off it, you lot. She's got a john and she's coming in to let him have a poke."

"Natalie, we're serious."

"So am I." Natalie groaned and flopped down on the bed. "I want my children and if you three flipping idiots do not come up with a plan to find them within thirty minutes, I'm going to the police."

"And tell them what?"

"That some men came and threatened my family. My son took my baby and ran. What the hell else?" She started at the knock on the door. "Someone going to get that, or are you hoping she's really Sabrina in disguise?"

Jake moved to the door and cautiously opened it.

The woman pulled her sunglasses down and looked at the tall brunet before her. "Oh, wow. Your wife must have the blond hair, huh?"

"Excuse me?"

"Did you know your daughter has the most amazing grip? And teeth! Well, eight teeth, anyway."

"Is this a code?"

Natalie flung the door open. "Where are my children?"

"Yeah, broadcast it. Can I come in? I have to … you know."

 

***

 

Wesley jogged down the stairs. "Jason has assured me that he can keep Debbie quiet."

"He did well enough when they were hiding."

"True. We didn't even know they were around." Wesley nodded toward the front door. "It appears our parents are here. I'll go into the kitchen and listen in, shall I?" He quickly removed himself from view.

The four men and two women burst through the door, Gunn in the lead. "Angel, this is—"

A petite woman with chin length hair, the exact honey color of Jason's, pushed her way forward. "Where are my children?"

"Children?"

"It's them, Angel. She knows stuff only a mother would know."

Angel looked at Gunn. "Such as?"

"Such as if you don't give me my children," she demanded, pointing her finger at Angel, "I'll kill you."

Angel pretended to ponder the threat from the woman who barely reached his shoulder. "Won't work. Sorry."

"Angel, they look just like the photo."

"I know, Cordelia," he sighed. "But we've got other concerns now. Wesley knows who they are."

At the sound of his name, Wesley came out of the back. Reginald Masterton straightened up. "Wesley? Wyndham-Price?"

"Yes."

"Good God, you're taller than your father."

"And you'd know this how?" Cordelia stared at the older man, hands planted firmly on her hips.

"Oh, I knew his parents. Quite well, actually." Reginald held out his hand to Wesley.

Wesley stared at it, but did not return the gesture. "I haven't the slightest notion who you are, sir."

"Ah, right. Last time I saw you, you were six. I tried to talk your father out of sending you to the Council for training. I couldn't come south after that. I see he took my advice."

"Hardly," Cordelia snorted. "Wes used to be a Slayer's Watcher. Actually, he had two, but then he got fired —"

"Cordelia!" Angel hissed.

"Two Slayers? Akh, never mind. I want my grandchildren."

"And do what with them, sir? Your daughter's house has been ransacked. Her children traumatized. Shall we send them home? The Council is still waiting there for them. They will be snatched from their parents the moment they enter the door. Run away with them? Your grandchildren will be hunted down until found and taken to England. I think you'll do neither, sir. Neither of them deserves the kind of treatment they will get from the Council. I personally will not allow such a fate to happen to those two children."

Cordelia grabbed Angel's arm and hugged him. "Omigod, listen to him! Go, Wesley!"

"Wesley, you can't keep the children from their parents," Angel admonished quietly, disentangling himself from Cordelia's grasp.

"Angel, they will take —," Wesley sighed. "The probability that Debbie would get a Watcher like Giles is miniscule. It's more likely she'd end up with someone like me."

Angel smiled. "There's nothing wrong with that, Wesley, except that neither you nor Giles are with the Council."

"I will not allow the Council to train Jason as a Watcher, nor will I permit them to take Debbie. You all have my word on that." Reginald's expression suddenly changed. "Hang on. Did you say Giles? Rupert Giles? He's in California? I haven't seen him since he was a teenager."

Wesley nodded. "In Sunnydale, Mr.—"

"Reginald."

"…Masterton. He's the Slayer's Watcher."

"Well, not technically," Cordelia looked around, "She quit, remember? Faith — that's the other Slayer — shot Angel with poison and the Mayor's Ascension, and graduation."

"We remember," Wesley grumbled. "Thank you for bringing that up, Cordelia."

"How do you know all this?" Natalie asked Angel. "Are you with these loonies? Chasing imaginary vampires?"

"Ha! Angel  —"

"Cordelia, go get the children," Angel interrupted. "Before you say anything else."

"You sure?"

"Yes," he pleaded. "Please." He watched her go up the stairs, then turned to Natalie and Jacob. "Your children are fine, and you're welcome to stay here until you figure out what to do." He spread his hands out and turned around. "As you can see, we have enough space. The children have been set up —"

The door upstairs flew open and Jason ran down the hall and slid down the banister. "Mom! Dad!" He hugged each in turn, while Cordelia handed a crying Debbie over to her mother. "Grandpa Reggie! What are you and Uncle Bernie doing here?"

"Looking for you, young man." The old man hugged his grandson warmly. "And your little sister. I see you did a fine job protecting her."

"Yeah, I did okay. I was really scared, but then I got help. And those guys were here twice. Have you met my new friends? They're okay for grown-ups. Wesley reads a lot like me, he let me see some of his books, and Cordelia has a ghost in her house, his name is Dennis, and Wesley bought me a **large** Big Mac meal and I ate it all…"

"Jason, it would serve you well to breathe," Wesley laughed before he turned to leave the area.

Without batting an eyelid, Jason continued, "… and Angel's a vampire but he's nice, and his eyes don't turn red, they go yellow, and I taught Cordelia how to cook spaghetti, and we were going to give Debbie prunes and make her barf on Angel, but you got here too soon …"

Angel grabbed Cordelia by the arm and led her away from the reunion. "Prunes?" he whispered menacingly, "You were going to let her vomit on me?"

"It was Jason's idea, I swear!"


	6. Epilogue

Cordelia entered the office and smiled brightly. "We got a package."

"From whom?"

"Jason, grammar king." Cordelia held up the package. "See?"

"So? Open it."

"A letter, but it's adult handwriting." Cordelia put the letter aside and began to distribute the packages. "A package for you, Wesley. One for Angel, and one for me. Books. Figures. What'd you get?"

" _Harry Potter and The Philosopher's Stone_. How many of these are there?"

"Four, so far. Angel?"

" _Bunnicula_ and _Vampires Don't Drink Lemonade_. A vampire rabbit? Who writes about vampire rabbits?"

"The Howes," Wesley explained with a deadpan expression. "There are five sequels to the book, by the way."

"The Howells got off the island?"

"Howes, Cordelia."

"Joking, Wesley."

"He's a terribly clever boy," Wesley remarked. "Jason would do well as a Watcher."

"Oh, please. He has a sense of humor."

"What did you get, then?"

"Dr. Seuss. We had a discussion about favorites, and he mentioned _Green Eggs and Ham_ ," she held up the book, "and we started quoting it, but got stuck. And I got _The Cat in the Hat_ and _Horton Hears a Who_. Haha, I got three. Did you read the letter?"

Wesley put his book down. "Ah, no." He opened the letter and scanned through it. "It's from Giles. They've settled in rather nicely. Jason is in school, doing well. The parents allow him to spend two afternoons a week with Giles. Debbie's, well, Debbie. She bit Xander. Apparently, Willow thought the incident hysterical. Debbie also destroyed a makeshift dummy used for Buffy's training. Pulled it apart; tried to ingest bits of it. Everything's normal, it appears."

"Could you see Debbie with a vampire? She'd bite it before it bit her."

Wesley handed to letter to Angel. "I fail to see the humor in that."

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Well, Jason would."

"I thought it was funny."

"See, Wes?"

"So long as it’s not me," Angel mumbled.

 


End file.
